Shattered Spear

Chapter Five

Gozen was smart enough to freeze rather than try dodging to one side or bringing up her own weapon. She knew enough about Malin to know that he could put a shot into the most vulnerable part of her face shield even if she was leaping sidewise when he fired.

Knowing that movement could well mean death, she froze, waiting to see what would happen.

“What is the meaning of this, Colonel Malin?” General Drakon asked, his voice harsh.

“This attack was assisted from the inside,” Malin said, still emotionless. “Someone planted worms in our systems that assisted the vipers in reaching this command center without being detected.”

“And you have some evidence that Colonel Gozen was involved in that?”

A pause. “Not yet, sir.”

“Are you aware that Colonel Gozen was with me when the attack went down and played a major role in defending me against attack when the vipers located me?”

Malin hesitated again, though his pistol didn’t waver. “General, they broke into your office immediately after killing the watch-standers. If you had been present, you would not have been able to stop a dozen vipers even with the defenses in your office.”

Drakon raised one hand and gestured to Malin to lower his weapon.

After another moment, Malin did so, returning the pistol to its holster with one smooth movement.

“I wasn’t in my office because I was talking to Colonel Gozen,” Drakon said. “If she had not asked to speak with me, I probably would have been there. Why would she have gotten me out of that office and away from the command center if she was involved in a plot to kill me? Why wouldn’t she have killed me herself during the confusion when the alarms sounded, or while the vipers were charging me?”

Malin inhaled slowly, then nodded. “It appears unlikely, sir.”

“Colonel Malin, I appreciate your concern for my welfare, but I am getting a little tired of my staff officers pointing weapons at each other. I don’t want it to happen again.”

Gozen felt herself stiffen at the tone of Drakon’s voice. Even though his words weren’t directly aimed at her, and even though she hadn’t pointed her weapon at Malin, she still had to fight down an urge to come to attention, salute, and promise never to do it again.

For his part, Malin sounded truly apologetic. “I am sorry, General.”

“You’re sure someone introduced worms from inside this building?” Drakon said, abruptly changing the subject.

“There was no external intrusion, sir. And no indications of any unauthorized person entering the headquarters complex.”

“Somebody did,” Gozen said. “Maybe that’s why my visitor showed up when he did. He or she had just finished inserting the worms. They wouldn’t have wanted to do that until just before the attack to limit any chance of the worms being spotted by our security routines. I should have realized that if they could threaten me they could have accessed the security systems in here.”

“That didn’t occur to me, either,” Drakon said. “It’s not like you wasted any time alerting me to the problem. Colonel Malin, there is a hidden access to Colonel Gozen’s quarters. Someone used it last night. That access may lead us to other hidden passages.”

Malin’s eyes narrowed. He nodded, then looked at Gozen again. “Some of the worms employed were the same as those among the snake software we captured on Ulindi. That’s why our armor systems were able to block the intrusion attempts.”

Gozen felt her face heating with anger. “You’re not still thinking that I—”

“No, Colonel Gozen,” Malin said. “Because I now recall that among your actions since we returned to Midway was your insistence on ensuring our armor software was upgraded to block everything found among the snake software on Ulindi. You have my apologies for suspecting you of involvement in this attack.”

“Accepted,” Gozen said. “In a Syndicate command, you would have shot me immediately then when proven wrong apologized for being too zealous in defending the CEO.”

“Yes, I would have,” Malin agreed.

“We need to find out who did plant those worms to open the path for the vipers,” Drakon said. “Are there any leads?”

“None, so far, General. Except for the absence of leads. Whoever did this left no trace of their actions.”

Drakon nodded, his expression darkening. “The lack of any mistakes does point in one direction. Colonel Malin, I know you’ve already been ordered to find President Iceni’s former aide Mehmet Togo. You are now authorized to neutralize him at the first opportunity.”

A flicker of a smile appeared on Malin’s lips. “Elimination of the threat by any means is authorized?”

“Yes. Maybe he does think he’s doing this to help President Iceni, but for all we know she would be his next target. Find Togo and kill him.”

“I do not believe it will be difficult to convince her of the threat posed by Togo, General, but she may still be reluctant to order his elimination.”

“When she hears that Togo assisted vipers in reaching this planet and staging an attack, I don’t think President Iceni will have any reluctance at all.” Drakon paused, inhaling sharply, then gave Malin a questioning look. “I’m so used to having you around that I’d forgotten you were supposed to be acting as the president’s aide. What brought you to the command center?”

“A hint among security intrusion attempts, General,” Malin said. “Something that concerned me even though it is hard to define. I traced it to this headquarters and came over as quickly as I could to follow up.”

“You should have issued an alert before you got here,” Drakon said. “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought such an alert might tip off the enemy and did not put sufficient weight on the possibility that the enemy might be moving so quickly.”

“That was a reasonable judgment call,” Drakon said gruffly. “But next time put a little more weight on the enemy’s moving faster than we expect. How the hell did Togo get vipers onto the planet without anyone spotting it?”

“I will find out, sir.”

“Get back to the president and give her a report on what happened here. Turn over the security sweep supervision to Colonel Gozen. Tell President Iceni that as soon as I am convinced my headquarters is secure I will visit her to discuss the matter. Has my office been swept for booby traps and bugs?”

“Yes, sir.” Malin waited until Drakon had headed into his office before turning an intense gaze on Gozen. “Do you understand how important both he and President Iceni are?”

She gave him a level look in return. “I’ve seen other star systems, and I’ve seen Midway. They freed this star system from the Syndicate without trashing the place in the process, and they’ve kept it free. Yeah, I understand.”

“Both of them,” Malin emphasized. “It may look at times as if Iceni is the senior partner, but without General Drakon she turns into one more dictator. A currently beloved dictator, it is true, but one person who controls everything and without whom everything falls apart. There must be two, so both have authority and neither one finds it foreign to share that authority with another. That’s the only path to long-term stability.”

“Long term?” Gozen’s gaze at Malin turned appraising. “Not a few years long term? Decades?”

“Longer.” Malin, his eyes sparked with fire that contrasted with the coldness of his expression, swept a hand upward as if including all of space in the gesture. “This part of human-controlled space needs a strong alternative to the Syndicate. One that can hold off the enigmas and any other alien threat for as long as necessary and won’t suffer from the flaws and weaknesses of the Syndicate.”

“There’s always the Alliance,” Gozen said, probing for Malin’s reaction.

“That name is poison in this part of space,” Malin said in dismissive tones. “We can use some of their methods, but we can’t acknowledge where they came from. This has to be something credited to people here.”

“But you don’t have any problem with help from Black Jack?”

“Black Jack isn’t the Alliance we fought,” Malin said, a ghost of a smile appearing. “He’s what the Alliance always should have been. We can ally with Black Jack. We can use his help. You accept that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Gozen bit her lip, thinking. “I guess that’s how I’d been thinking about it. Help from Captain Bradamont was okay because she is one of Black Jack’s officers. How closely are you tied to Black Jack, Colonel Malin?”

Malin gave another one of his ghost smiles. “Are you asking if I’m his agent? The answer is no. We have similar goals, I think. Do you share those goals?”

“I don’t know, yet.” Gozen jerked a thumb toward Drakon’s office. “But I’m going to back whatever he does.”

“That’s good enough. Do you have any questions regarding the security sweep?”

Gozen studied the big display where markers indicating individual soldiers and their units moved through a vast 3-D schematic of the headquarters complex. Cleared areas glowed light green. Uncleared areas were yellow. As she watched, several short, small passages appeared and glowed red. “Those are the entrances to the routes used by my visitor last night, I’m guessing.”

“Very likely, yes. They are to be searched very carefully. Assume the entrances and the passages are booby-trapped until they have been scanned down to bedrock.”

“I figured they’d be rigged to nail anyone who tried a quick pursuit.” Gozen faced Malin and saluted formally, her right fist coming across to tap her left shoulder. “I’ve got it, Colonel.”

Malin gazed at her for a long moment, then returned the salute. “I stand relieved. Inform the general that I have left for President Iceni’s office.” He spun on one heel and walked away.

Colonel Safir showed up ten minutes after Malin had left, walking into the command center along with a squad from her brigade. “They put you in charge already?” she asked, familiar with Gozen from their encounters at Ulindi. “I got word of trouble here, but by the time we could scramble an assist force you guys had put out the fire. Just stopping by to see things for myself.”

“We’re still picking up the pieces, but it’s under control,” Gozen said.

Safir was looking at the display. “That’s the sort of force dispersal that General Drakon would have set up. Did he do it and hand the task over to you?”

“No. Colonel Malin set it up.”

“That explains it.” Safir grinned at Gozen. “Are you two pals?”

“Me and Malin?” Gozen shook her head. “Does he have any pals?”

“Not that I ever heard of.” Safir’s grin turned into a speculative look. “Malin had a long feud going with Colonel Morgan before we lost her on Ulindi. I was wondering if he’d start acting the same way with you.”

“No, no trace of going to war on his side,” Gozen said. “He is suspicious of me.”

“Malin suspects everybody,” Safir said with a smile of derision. “If he tries moving on you without good evidence, the general will shut him down.”

“The general did,” Gozen agreed. “But even when Malin’s been accusing me it hasn’t come across as heated. Malin’s just…”

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” Gozen agreed. “Cold and driven. I guess he’s always been like that?”

Safir paused, looking away, her expression troubled. “Always a bit like that. He’s gotten colder and more driven lately though. Especially after Morgan apparently bought it. Like what little human warmth he had went with her.” She glanced at Gozen. “It’s enough to make someone wonder if they were lovers or something, and all that infighting was just a cover. But if it was a fake, it was the best damn fake I ever saw. There are rumors making the rounds, some of them pretty wild.”

“I don’t know enough people around here yet to hear the good rumors,” Gozen said. “But from what I’ve heard of Morgan, she and Malin weren’t exactly a match made in the heavens. Seems he’d be celebrating, not torn up about her dying on Ulindi.”

“She’s not confirmed dead,” Safir said.

“She was in the snake alternate command center on Ulindi when it was blown to hell.”

“Maybe she was still in there,” Safir said. “Maybe not. If you’d ever met Roh Morgan, you’d know why the rest of us aren’t willing to write her off in the absence of a body. And even if she is dead… well, Morgan’s exactly the sort who would reach out of her grave to pull down whoever put her there. Know what I mean?” Safir nodded toward Drakon’s office. “Is the boss accepting visitors?”

“He didn’t tell me otherwise,” Gozen said.

“Drakon isn’t a micromanager. He expects us to use our heads without being given explicit instructions all the time. But I gather you’re picking up on that.” Safir gestured to her soldiers, waiting off to one side of the command center, to stay where they were, then strode toward Drakon’s office.

Gozen inhaled slowly as she studied the security sweep, now almost complete. A few bugs concealed by the vipers had turned up, but nothing else. The vipers, it seemed, had only one mission, to kill Drakon.

Colonel Malin obviously wasn’t the only one who understood how important Drakon was.

Jason Boyens had endured a good many things in his rise to CEO status, including the exile to the Reserve Flotilla, capture by the Alliance, the close personal attention of the deadly Happy Hua, and a prolonged imprisonment on Midway while wondering whether Gwen Iceni and Artur Drakon would forgive his latest twists and turns or choose to get rid of him once and for all. By all rights he should be dead a dozen times over. But he had survived this far.

So he could endure this, too, walking up to a customs checkpoint at the orbital facility where Midway’s HuK had dropped off him and the nervous young man named Dingane Paige who had been Ulindi’s representative at Midway. The checkpoint bore the scars of fairly recent fighting when Drakon’s soldiers had wiped out the snakes who had once controlled this facility. The men and women occupying the security checkpoint wore obviously new uniforms and had the awkward stances of those new to their jobs.

Jason Boyens had to wonder how those new guards, whose world had been the scene of large-scale massacres by the Syndicate Internal Security Service, would take the appearance of a former Syndicate CEO.

He adopted a pose of quiet confidence. Not arrogant. That was the last thing he needed to project. But a sort of comradely assurance that he was part of whatever team Ulindi was trying to put together in the wake of the Syndicate’s expulsion.

But his careful effort was nearly undone by a strange sensation, a chill of fear down his spine as if death itself had passed close by him, known Boyens for who he was, eyed him with interest, then chosen to pass on.

Seriously rattled by the feeling, Boyens looked around hurriedly, trying to spot whoever had produced that reaction in him, but no one in the groups of people arriving or departing appeared to stand out or look out of place. Which only meant that whoever it was could blend in very well, a useful skill for thieves, swindlers… and assassins.

Boyens had been eyed appraisingly by assassins before, including those agonizing months with Happy Hua apparently itching for an excuse to conduct a field execution of him for any reason her own superiors might be willing to accept. But this had felt disturbingly familiar. For some reason it called up memories of meetings with Drakon and his two aides, Morgan and Malin, whose gazes could bear an uncomfortable similarity to that of a cat toying with a mouse.

But Morgan had died on Ulindi. And if he screwed up this first encounter with officials of Ulindi he might die here as well.

Boyens regained his poise with a major effort. By the time he finally reached the guards and presented his papers, knowing that he was being scanned by many devices designed to spot signs of fear or deceit, Boyens presented the perfect image of confidence and safety.

The older woman who took Boyens’s papers frowned at them, checked the display at her guard post, then frowned at him. “Boyens? Syndicate CEO?”

A cone of silence settled over a wide area around Boyens, conversations and activity halting, everyone turning to stare at him in disbelief that was rapidly turning to anger.

“Former CEO,” Boyens said, trying to make the CEO title seem like one he was reluctant to claim. Given the circumstances, he wasn’t faking that. He spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry, though even a whisper would have been audible in the hush that filled the area. “I came from Midway. You can see the endorsements on my papers, from President Iceni and General Drakon themselves.”

“They wanted him to come to Ulindi,” Dingane Paige said, sounding more confident as he talked to his peers.

Other guards had hastened over and were examining their readouts. “Iceni and Drakon? Those two really wanted him to come here?” one asked.

“Yes. I’m familiar with this region of space,” Boyens explained, doing his best to pretend that he was talking to another CEO rather than to a worker so his attitude would come across well. “I used to serve with the Reserve Flotilla.” He remembered conversations he had overheard as well as some Syndicate intelligence assessments and decided to add something else. “I was taken prisoner when the Flotilla was destroyed by Black Jack. He brought me back to Midway and released me.”

“You expect us to believe that?” a young woman demanded.

“It’s true.” Two more women had come over. Boyens hadn’t noticed them in his focus on the guards, but he saw they wore Syndicate uniforms that had had the Syndicate patches torn off. “We were shuttle pilots with the Reserve Flotilla,” the older of the two continued, jerking her thumb at her companion to include her in the statement. “We both saw him with the Flotilla. I flew him a few times.”

“I’m glad you survived,” Boyens said, trying desperately to recall the woman and wondering how he had treated her. Hopefully halfway decently at least.

“Got transferred off before the Flotilla got sent to Alliance space and hell,” the pilot answered. “This guy treated us all right,” the woman added. “He was a CEO, but he wasn’t an arrogant ass.”

“Everyone knew that Boyens wasn’t half-bad,” the other pilot commented, “for a CEO.”

“That’s not saying much,” one of the guards grumbled, staring at Boyens’s papers as if searching for a single comma out of place that could be used to justify arrest and interrogation.

“President Iceni asked me to come here,” Boyens repeated.

“He’s telling the truth,” another guard commented, eyes on the readouts.

“That’s a first for a CEO,” another added, bringing a ripple of angry laughter.

“Iceni was a CEO once, too. Why did President Iceni ask you to come to Ulindi?” the older pilot asked. “Last I heard, you were attacking Midway in command of a Syndicate flotilla.”

“Because I escaped,” Boyens said, phrasing his words carefully. “The snakes commanded that flotilla, not me. I had snake CEO Hua Boucher at my back every moment. I managed to prevent some actions by the snakes and kept it from accomplishing the Syndicate’s goals.” The first part of that sentence was true, but the second half was shading the truth considerably. Hopefully, the way he had phrased it, thinking of what Boucher really had accused him of doing, would keep the statement from showing up on the security sensors as deceptive. “I had to run when it became obvious I was going to be blamed for the flotilla’s failures. I brought important information to Midway. I wish I could have killed Boucher myself before I left, but the attempt would have been futile.” He didn’t have to worry whether that last statement would come across as true.

The commander of the checkpoint scratched his head, then shrugged. “I have to admit to a strong desire to just go ahead and shoot you now, but that’d be a snake thing to do. We’re going to, uh, take you into custody, though. Take you down and let the interim government talk to you. They’ll decide what to do.”

“That’s fine,” Boyens said, trying not to look too relieved. If he could get in the same room with the inexperienced people trying to run this star system he was certain that he could convince them that he would be useful to Ulindi. It would take some time to unobtrusively shift from being a source of advice to becoming someone in authority, but he had time. Only fools tried to rush things.

The two guards assigned to him weren’t deferential, but they weren’t rough, either. A lifetime in the Syndicate had left them with a residual dread of CEOs that held them back even now. Boyens saw that the pilots on the shuttle taking him down to the planet were the two women who were also survivors of the Reserve Flotilla. He took that as a good sign for the future.

“We’re all survivors, aren’t we?” Boyens commented to his guards and Dingane Paige as the shuttle fell away from the orbital facility and began dropping toward the planet below.

“So far,” one of the guards commented in tones that made the implied threat obvious.

Paige was gazing morosely at the display near him, which showed an image of space outside the shuttle. “We can’t defend ourselves. How long can we survive like that? We don’t even have one Hunter-Killer like the one that brought us back to Ulindi.”

“Get one,” Boyens said matter-of-factly.

Paige and the guards stared at him. “You mean buy a mobile forces unit?” Paige asked. “We don’t have the money.”

“No, no!” Boyens protested. “Even if you could buy a warship, that’s what President Iceni calls them instead of mobile forces, you know,” he added in an aside to the guards to emphasize that he knew Iceni, “there are better ways. You have jump points to Maui and Kiribati, right? And the Syndicate is posting warships at Maui and Kiribati to keep those star systems from revolting, and to protect against attacks by Midway’s forces. You need to get word to the workers and any right-minded executives on those warships that if they are sick of the Syndicate they can find a safe home here at Ulindi. For them and for their families!”

“Encourage them to mutiny?” Paige asked, then shook his head. “There must be snakes all over those units… um, warships. They couldn’t mutiny.”

“Even the Syndicate doesn’t have unlimited numbers of snakes,” Boyens advised. “How many snakes died here at Ulindi? On the planet where we’re going and in warships that were destroyed during the fighting in space? And that’s on top of all the other losses and all the other demands for snakes that the Syndicate has faced lately. They are spread thinly, I tell you. We have a window of opportunity in which mutinies have a higher chance of success, and we should use that to convince as many of those warships as possible to come to Ulindi for a new home where they can be free of the Syndicate. A new home that they can help defend against the Syndicate and all other threats!”

The two guards exchanged smiles, and even Paige managed to let some excitement and hope overcome his apparently habitual anxiety. More importantly (from Boyens’s point of view), none of them had objected when Boyens had used “we” to include himself with them.

And it wasn’t a bad plan at all. Some of the executives and sub-CEOs on those Syndicate warships at Maui and Kiribati might be men and women he knew. That wouldn’t be a positive in every case, but as a rule, Boyens had tried to avoid leaving vengeful victims in his wake. He had seen too many examples of unforgiving subordinates tripping up (or worse) those who had harmed them to not realize that generating living enemies on the way to the top made for a bad long-term strategy. Now Boyens’s attempts to ensure he wasn’t personally blamed for misfortunes that befell others might help bring Ulindi exactly the sort of muscle it very badly needed.

And if it led to more than one snake like the late-and-unlamented snake CEO Hua Boucher being shoved out an air lock by angry workers, so much the better.

Heavy cruiser Manticore dropped out of jump space at Moorea to the accompaniment of combat system alarms warning of danger nearby.

“A Hunter-Killer,” Kapitan Diaz said as he shook the lingering effects of leaving jump from his brain. “Two light minutes away. It’s holding an orbit near the jump point. It is not broadcasting Syndicate unit identification.”

“A trick?” Marphissa asked.

The senior watch specialist answered. “Kommodor, the communications we are picking up indicate that Moorea has been occupied by the forces of Granaile Imallye. The HuK guarding this jump point is specifically identified as belonging to her forces.”

“So. A sentry posted at the jump point. That implies a decent level of organization and discipline.” Marphissa gazed at her display as new information appeared. Moorea was a fairly well-off star system, with five inner planets and six larger ones in the outer reaches. One of the inner planets was not merely inhabitable by humans but pleasant, orbiting its star at seven and a half light minutes out, while a second at ten light minutes out was cold but livable.

Orbiting near the primary inhabited world were two light cruisers, two more HuKs, and a single battle cruiser. While clearly of Syndicate origin, none of those were broadcasting Syndicate unit identification either.

“Imallye has some serious firepower here,” Marphissa commented. But the jump point from which Manticore had arrived was nearly six light hours from where that planet and those other warships now orbited. She waved one hand toward the comm specialist. “Set me up to contact the HuK on sentry duty.”

“Yes, Kommodor,” she replied. “It will take one moment. Done. Channel Two, Kommodor.”

Marphissa sat straight and tried to look authoritative but not hostile. “Unknown warship at the jump point from Iwa, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the Free and Independent Midway Star System aboard the heavy cruiser Manticore. I have been sent to Moorea by our President Iceni to contact Granaile Imallye and to pass on warning of a new and serious threat from the alien enigma species.” She paused. “We have just come from Iwa, where all Syndicate installations were recently destroyed by an enigma attack. There were no survivors. I must speak with Granaile Imallye and the leaders of Moorea as soon as possible. Moorea may be the next target of the enigmas, and their next attack could come at any time. For the people, Marphissa, out.”

“That should get their attention,” Diaz commented. “Why leave a single HuK on sentry duty? It could only deal with the smallest level of threat arriving here.”

“Perhaps Imallye wants to see if whoever arrives immediately attacks the HuK or tries to talk,” Marphissa said. “Put Manticore in an orbit that holds us near here until that HuK answers us. President Iceni was very clear that we must not provoke combat with Imallye’s forces.”

Diaz was still maneuvering Manticore when a reply came from the HuK. The man whose image appeared before Marphissa wore what had once been a Syndicate executive’s suit, but one bedecked with numerous extra decorations and jewelry. Under the Syndicate, that suit would have been kept pressed and immaculate, but the current owner didn’t seem bothered by the wrinkles and sags in it. “I am Mahadhevan, commander of the Mahadhevan,” he announced, “a unit obedient to Granaile Imallye and to no one else.”

“He says that like he expects us to be annoyed,” Diaz commented.

“He’s a worker,” the senior watch specialist declared. “A former worker.” The other specialists nodded in agreement.

It wasn’t too hard to figure out how a former worker would come to be wearing the uniform of a Syndicate executive. When the workers on Syndicate warships mutinied, there was little mercy shown to many of their former supervisors. Marphissa, herself a former executive, was grateful that Iceni had maintained control over the crews of the ships on which she had fostered rebellion against the Syndicate. “He’s not using a title,” Marphissa observed. “Maybe that’s how Imallye runs things.”

Mahadhevan, after pausing to let his audience presumably have time to be outraged by his attitude, spoke again, sounding unconcerned. “You will wait here, in the orbit I give you, while I pass on your request to Imallye. That is all.”

The image vanished.

“Are you certain that we cannot provoke hostilities?” Diaz asked, his voice angry now.

“I’m supposed to avoid it if possible,” Marphissa said, trying not to become equally angry. “That ass is too busy showing off his new status to listen to what I told him. He might delay sending on a message just to emphasize his current exalted state.”

“What will we do, Kommodor? He has sent us the orbit we are supposed to remain in.”

Marphissa thought, the image of the devastation at Iwa filling her mind. “I cannot risk this fool’s slowing down the warning I must give. Comm specialist, set up a signal tagged for military and civilian leaders here in Moorea, no matter who they are loyal to. I want the signal aimed to intercept the orbit of the primary world and those warships orbiting near it. Kapitan Diaz, while I send my message out, you are to take Manticore toward the primary inhabited world at a velocity of point two light speed.”

Diaz grinned. “Yes, Kommodor! And if Mahadhevan and the Mahadhevan react in a hostile manner?”

“That HuK does not have sufficient firepower to hurt us on a single firing run. We will see, Kapitan, if Mahadhevan has enough brains to realize that. If he does not, we will have to show him that attacking warships of Midway without provocation is a serious mistake.”

Surely President Iceni would want her to act quickly, and to refuse to be easily intimidated by a single ship far weaker than her own. But Marphissa still waited, outwardly calm but inwardly tense, to see what the worker-turned-commander would do when his orders were ignored.

Manticore could easily handle a single HuK. But that battle cruiser could smash Manticore if Imallye decided to back even a foolish decision by one of her subordinates.

And she knew almost nothing about Imallye.

“Shields at maximum strength,” Marphissa ordered. “Do not power up weapons.”

Manticore accelerated out of orbit, heading down the long path to where the primary inhabited world of Moorea would be in sixty hours.